


Sensible Approaches to Falling Apart

by samurai_jack



Category: Samurai Jack (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samurai_jack/pseuds/samurai_jack
Summary: As Ashi's past comes into slow focus, a tentative friendship with the Samurai begins to take shape. Both enthralled and terrified by the prospect of it growing into more, they both silently vow to keep each other at arm's length.





	1. Chapter 1

Horror tore Jack’s eyelids open. 

He had dreamt visions of smoke. Of grasping, omnipresent arms encircling his ribs and scorching his lungs, echoes of his past emerging like whispers through the tears in time. He dreamt of his parents, their faces ashen and crumbling, clawing for traction as they folded into the ground. He dreamt of his home, ablaze in the wake of all that he’d destroyed, left to rot in abandon.

And he dreamt of the girls. In his numbed, half-waken stupor, he recalled the weight of their limbs falling slack in his arms, their pale, unmarred faces falling like slices of crescent moon smeared haphazardly from a square of blackened sky. 

“Aah!” he groaned, clutching his chest as reality stumbled into his awareness. He lay on his side in the long, pale grass, which was tinged purple as if perpetually bathing in violet dusk. He could see the edge of the island in his peripheral; the shoreline lapped against the grassy edge, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Jack spent several moments leveling his breaths, flexing and unflexing his fists.

The chirp of cicadas wove between clawing bouts of silence, marred intermittently by the sound of his leveled breaths. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

Jack lifted his head, in the process streaking the edge of his jaw with a fresh coat of mud. He felt her lithe, calculated movements before he saw her; she was, to him, the lingering sensation of a phantom in the darkness, a half-thought preceding its accompanying sound. 

“Well. That is not a very nice way to greet someone,” Jack replied. Sleep’s effects still wove wispy tendrils around his consciousness, fogging his thoughts, but they no longer held him fully. Still, he felt weakened by the aftermath, dazed, as if stumbling a half-step behind. 

Yet, the way her eyes held him, two dark cuts of glass from her pale countenance, always felt like an interrogation. 

“You say things. In your sleep,” Ashi clarified. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth collapsed into a thin line. “Sometimes, you even scream.” 

Jack winced, nearly imperceptible to the untrained eye. But the girl was clever and hardened, and she held him in that gripping stare like a hand vying for traction at the edge of a cliff. His glance darted between her face and the blade she’d earlier abandoned in the grass, its metallic finish winking as the first glimmer of dawn turned over it.

“You could have killed me, yet you did not,” the Samurai replied, evading her inquiry. They hadn't discussed this the night previous; dusk had fallen over them both in a way that felt fragile, as if their words would penetrate it, launching them from that hazy lavender in-between state into a complete, hungry darkness. 

Ashi raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “What's to say I won’t?” She crossed her arms over her chest, and suddenly her assassin costume shimmered and shifted, and she appeared at once young and petulant. 

“You might.” Jack stood and reflexively felt for his sword. In its absence, his hands fell over the empty space, feeling large and awkward. “Or you might not.” He took a step closer to her and met her probing stare. He felt the instinct to blink, or look away, as if he’d been staring into the sun. 

“Dare I say we may have become allies, Ashi,” Jack replied, a wan smile tugging weakly at the edge of his mouth. “Unless, of course-” now his eyes scanned the edge of the horizon, which sprawled languidly beneath the sun’s rolling glow, lapping against some arbitrary point where his eyes tired of chasing its edge. “-you know a way off of this island yourself.”


	2. A Moth in the Flame

“What are you doing up there?” Jack called out idly, stoking the flames of their campfire. A few errant embers popped and steamed in the grass- Jack watched their colors blazen, then dim, before finally extinguishing in the dirt. He tilted his head upwards and faintly distinguished her lithe form through the kaleidoscope cutouts that the leaves created. She moved like a panther, vaulting herself from one foothold to the other with fluid grace. 

“Climbing. What does it look like?” She snapped. 

A grin stole the edges of his lips. “You’re doing that thing you do-”

“What thing?”

“-when you’re thinking. You get defensive.” He poked again at the fire, rotating the logs in order to sustain the fragile flame. A cool wind pushed at his back, smelling of smoke and sickly-sweet twilight fog. The scent was distinct to Jack. It’s familiar, lingering presence folded in on itself and tightened into a knot at the back of his throat. 

He had grown to hate the nighttime, the in-between hours which trembled with electric uncertainty at the edge of his consciousness. It reduced him to his truest, most exposed self. In his dreams, he met with ghosts which melted to wisps of smoke in the daytime, leaving behind whispers of their hallucinations. 

The nighttime hunted him. It became him. 

He heard Ashi pause in her climbing, then settle onto a thick tree branch. Her legs slid over the edge and into his peripheral, then swayed gently in the silent pause. 

It was what she did when she was nervous. Or, rather, it was what she did when there was something turning over in her mind, a thought rooted in her bloodstream like a virus, robbing her of continuous thought, of peace and assurance. 

It was what she did when she felt weak. 

“I’m not defensive.” 

“Are too,” Jack replied calmly. 

“Am not-” she began, then stopped herself with a frustrated sigh. The pops of the flames cut through the quiet beat. “I don’t understand it. Any of this.” She shifted on her branch so that she could see Jack’s face better, only to regret that decision; his tired, dark eyes traveled her face for a long moment, searching for something she didn’t know how to name. 

“Everything I’ve ever known is a lie. How is that possible?”  
“Aku is a master of deception and trickery,” Jack replied. “He cares for no one. He uses, and then discards.”

“They were my friends,” Ashi whispered. Her words tumbled out from her and then fell into the flames below. But the smoke they emitted permeated, grasping at the air in Jack’s lungs. 

“I mean, friends may not be the best word.” She paused, scraping at the edges of her memories; a flicker, a heartbeat. Hands holding hands. A secret sisterhood, bound by dreams of blood. His blood, of course; warm under their palms, his fluttering, dying heartbeat a trophy of their triumph. 

How could she convey to him that these girls were the life preservers she clawed at for years in the absence of meaningful human contact? “They meant something to me, I know they did… at least, I thought I knew. Now, I don’t know which memories are mine, and which are manufactured.” Each day, her memories of them drew further from her mind, taunting her with 

The two had been slowly making their way back to the ruined city; Jack navigated the woods with ease, using the long shadows cast by the sun as his guide. He reckoned they had another day and a half of traveling, but nightfall inhibited their progress with frustrating inevitability. 

His eyes traced the edge of the woods as far as he could see before it melted into the purple smear of dusk. Beyond it, vast nothingness, a barren wasteland gripped in the chokehold of Aku’s grasp. 

Jack couldn’t speak; his mouth felt like putty, and his mind sank under half- thoughts. “I… know that they meant a lot to you. That is real.” 

Ashi watched as he shifted away from her, cowering behind the veil of smoke that separated them. The orange glow illuminated his sharp profile; she traced his strong jawline, straight and self-assured, his sharp nose, before finally resting on his lips, which were thin and weathered, yet somehow soft, snagged gently in his teeth. Her mind fluttered like a butterfly’s wings to a single, foolish thought: How might those lips feel against hers? 

She batted the thought away, frustrated by the seed that had rooted at the far edge of her brain. You can’t have him. He belongs to the wind, to the earth, to his memories. 

Samurai Jack belonged to no one and everyone in this awful, fragile place. 

“Is it?” She tasted a bitter acidity at the base of her throat, leaving a burning trail in its wake. “How can we know what’s real? Aku has destroyed…” she was disgusted by the gentle sob that racked her body and swallowed it back. She avoided Jack’s gaze, frustratingly earnest and gentle. 

“He’s destroyed everything. I don’t know who- what- I am anymore. I don’t even have my memories. A family. You, Jack, should know what that’s like.” 

It was a harsh blow; she regretted it as soon as she said it. But she hadn’t meant it with malice, not really. A bitter edge to her words twisted the statement into a nasty shape, but she only meant that they were kindred, in a sense. Bound by something. 

“Yes,” Jack replied, so quietly she wondered if she imagined it. “Yes, I do.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be.” He turned to face her so sharply that it felt like a blow to her chest. “Do not pity me. I’ve done terrible things. Things that I am ashamed of. Things that have nearly destroyed me. But I won’t let Aku take my sanity, too.” He stood and walked closer to her branch until the soles of her feet swung directly over his head. “You shouldn’t either, Ashi.”

“I think it might be too late for that,” Ashi replied quietly. “How do I know it’s not already gone?” 

She blinked and then there he was, pulling himself onto a low branch and then swinging his legs near-soundlessly over a thick branch next to her. She swallowed her heartbeat and synced its metronome to her shallow breaths. How transparent humans are, she mused. Reduced to the biological signs that inevitably expose their hands. 

“You saved my life, Ashi,” his quiet, desperate plea was so uncharacteristic that Ashi felt dazed, faltering a step behind. She scrambled to catch up to him, but there he was moving again, the spark she’d chase endlessly through the dark, “You didn’t have to, but you did. You saved those kids, too.” She felt his strong, warm hands reach for her in the dark. They gently held her forearms like walls closing around her. “You aren’t his anymore. Stop holding yourself accountable for what you couldn’t control.”

She thought she imagined it at first; it was just a glimpse of color in the acrylic palette of night; the red flap of a ladybug. It rested on Jack’s shoulder, then crawled slowly up his neck and back down that sharp jaw. 

“You need a haircut,” she mused, and in a fleeting moment of boldness, reached out and spun a lock of his hair around her fingertips. 

Jack blinked. Once, twice. Then he smiled; it changed his entire face, somehow; a smudge of color on a canvas. 

“Not a fan of the rugged look?” He shook his long hair out so that it fell over his face, a cascade of dark locks that blended with the backdrop of the leaves so that he appeared to blend into the night itself, as if he’d disappear into the darkness if she looked away even for a moment.   
She laughed, despite herself. “No, I don’t think I am. But maybe I will be, with some convincing.” When he fixed his dark eyes on her again, they held her so intently she felt like an exhibit display. 

And just as she thought she thought her heart might explode into flames, he slid down and away from her, back to his spot by the fire. But she didn’t miss the way his face held the ghost of a smile that he wouldn’t permit himself to fall into. 

“You should sleep. I’ll take the first watch,” he called up to her. 

“Sleep. Right.” She settled back into a crook in the bend of the branch. The leaves shifted around her weight, creating a canopy. 

After several moments of silence, she shifted. A twig cracked softly somewhere behind her. 

“Can’t sleep?” He guessed. 

Damn him, Ashi thought. Always a step ahead, knowing her and knowing her again. 

“No,” she admitted. There was no point in lying. “Jack?” She asked. 

“Mm?”

“Can you tell me that story again? The one about the stars.” 

And he told his story again, his voice a quiet beacon of light rippling across the waves, guiding her to shore. She drifted to sleep with the memory of his hands on her arms, tethering her to the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate everyone's continued support, kind comments, and kudos. I love reading and responding to your thoughts, so please leave them below!


	3. A Study in Humanity

Ashi knew how to make herself soft. Quiet. 

She had mastered the art of folding herself into small places, both literal and figurative vantage points from which she could assess a situation. It was easier to be unseen; in the dark, with the cool surface of her mask gripping her face like talons, she could collect herself. For years she practiced swallowing her heartbeats, counting down the metronome until she was nothing and nowhere, bobbing beneath the silken surface of the abyss. It was where she found some semblance of peace. 

The Samurai hadn’t woken her for her night shift, though she didn’t expect him to. Her biological clock had begun waking her with a start nearly every hour; she’d careen violently from the warm embrace of sleep, launched headfirst into a cruel wakefulness, one hand instinctively grasping for her weapon, the other clutching her chest. And then her eyes would dart from one edge of the forest to the other, and finally to the sprawling, grasping skyline, where soft pink and purple tendrils of dawn steadfastly crawled along the edges of the trees. 

She was listening for a pause in time or an intake of breath, the tiny push needed for everything to fall apart. But there was only the steady white noise of cicadas, and the occasional shuffle of paws in the underbrush. 

She would find her. The Priestess. It would happen eventually, and without premonition. And when it happened, the Priestess would kill her, quickly, with no grandeur. 

And so Ashi waited. 

Jack pretended not to notice her night terrors, though she saw the way his warm, dark eyes fell over her, a small wrinkle of worry furrowing between his brows. Still, he said nothing. Ever-contemplative. Caring. Possibly the kindest person she’d ever known.

She hated him for it, just a little bit. Because despite the similarly cruel hands they’d both been dealt, he had emerged stronger, where she personified the bitter aftertaste of her upbringing. The familiar embrace of night clung to her like dirt she couldn’t scrub from beneath her fingernails. It kissed her jawline, snaked between tendrils of her hair. It sunk into the fibers of her skin and appeared in bursts behind her closed eyelids. 

But Jack, he was different. Impervious to the seductive temptation of cruelty and bitterness. He was relentlessly, tirelessly good. 

Ashi swung down from her tree branch and landed with a quiet thud. The Samurai sat with his knees close to his chest, arms neatly drawn around them. He was someplace far away; his dark eyes swam in a glassy pool of worry, unfocused and distant. She wanted to reach out and smooth the worry lines in his forehead, but she remained still, watching him for several long heartbeats.  
“Jack?” She tried, inching closer to him. She noticed his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. Tiny, crescent-shaped indents dotted his palms where his fingernails dug into the flesh. 

As she drew closer, the faint muttering grew audible. She appeared to be having a one-sided conversation. His broad shoulders trembled. 

“I have not forgotten my purpose. I have not failed… Please, just leave me alone… please!” 

His sudden scream jolted her so suddenly that she stumbled, her foot cracking a twig beneath her. Jack’s head snapped around and he stood suddenly, closing the short distance between them. The warmth in his gaze was lost. A metallic glint in his eye whispered of a certain hunger. 

And then, he seemed to realize who she was; his chest still rose and fell with each rapid breath, but a calm had fallen over him. In its wake was a fatigue that weighed his eyelids, hunched his shoulders forward, as if he'd crumble into the earth with the slightest push. 

After a moment, his jaw softened, and he dropped his hands at his sides. They hung there, limp, like paper cranes tethered to puppet strings.

“Rest,” Ashi ordered. “You should have woken me sooner.” She squinted her eyes against the rising sun, which bleached the clearing and cast everything in a warm, rosy glow. 

Jack shook his head. “You look peaceful when you sleep.” Ashi felt a warmth rise in her cheeks; she wished she could box that feeling up and save it for a rainy day. 

He made her feel giddy. Hopeful. It was intoxicating and terrifying. 

“Funny. I feel the least peaceful during sleep. It's…” she paused. “Vulnerable.” 

Jack held her in a steady gaze. “A kindred spirit,” he concurred. Without elaborating, he turned to look north. “Anyway. We should keep moving.” 

“You haven't slept,” Ashi argued. 

“You have taken quite the interest in my wellbeing,” Jack noted. He cocked his head a bit to the a right, and it was perhaps the most endearing thing Ashi had ever seen. 

“It's not that I care.” She countered. “I just… what if we run into trouble? You're exhausted, which inhibits your control.” 

“I will keep you safe.”

“I didn't mean for me.” Ashi’s eyes narrowed. “I meant for you. I can take care of myself.” 

Jack laughed, a lovely little sound that trembled with hope. It sounded like sunrises and second chances. “You are really something, aren't you.” 

Without waiting for her, he set off on the path north. 

She trotted after him. “What are we looking for?” 

Jack glanced back at her. “My sword, of course.” 

“No, I mean-” Ashi finally caught stride with him and slowed her pace. “How will we know where to find it?

Jack paused thoughtfully. “I know where it is. I lost it during an… encounter.” 

“An encounter,” Ashi repeated.

“Yes.” A melancholy quiet fell over Jack, and they walked in silence for the next mile or so. She liked the way that they could exist in silent proximity, communicating through the occasional glance or quiet sigh, electric in the gentle brush of his hand as they occasionally grazed against her own. 

“How did the encounter end?” Ashi asked at last. He smiled, quietly knowing. Curiosity brewed and churned within her. He thought she might spend her whole life asking him questions. 

And just for a moment, he thought he might let her. 

“I… do not know. Yet.” Jack replied, though Ashi didn’t miss the quiet hesitance in his words. There was something worrying at him, itching at the edge of his conscience. 

“So how do we know what we’re looking for?” Ashi replied, exasperated. She let out a huff, and the breeze rustled the ends of her hair. Jack chuckled at this, which only deepened her exasperation. 

“In time, Ashi, you will understand.” 

“In time, Ashi, you will understand,” she mocked, exaggerating each word with ostentatious diction. She narrowed her eyes and tossed him a cutting sideways glance. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?” 

“A trap.” Jack rubbed his jaw, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. “And what kind of trap would that be?” For a moment, the shadow of an inexplicable sadness appeared to pass over Jack’s face. 

She wondered if she had hurt him, somehow. She hadn’t meant to; emotions were still a complex path which she struggled to navigate, full of complicated gestures and expressions, where even the simplest phrases bobbed under surface layers of meaning. 

Ashi had become so ensnared in the briars of her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed when Jack stopped walking. His eyes were ablaze with questions, sharp and metallic beneath tired, hooded lids. 

Yes, she realized numbly. She had hurt him. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be an accusation,” Ashi replied slowly, searching for the proper words. “I’m… sorry. Emotions are so... _confusing_. How do you people live like this?” 

Jack studied her so intensely that Ashi felt herself shrink slightly, against her own accord. And then he smiled- a full, real smile, so unlike the fragile half-grins and hardened smirks she had become used to. It looked like a fragment of sunlight passing through the cracked glass, a gentle breath promising spring. Her chest swelled with hope, and wonder, and newness. 

“No, this is not a trap.” Jack looked down at the dirt path, where an inchworm slowly passed between them before disappearing into the tall grass on the other side. “I do not think anyone could truly trap you, Ashi.” 

Before she could ask him what that could possibly mean, he was off again and she was following him, always following him, studying him at the angle where she knew him best: from her careful vantage point, just a half-step behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else is excited for tonight's episode?
> 
> Thank you, as always, for reading. This has been so much fun to write, and I'm still marveling at the fact that people seem to really enjoy reading it. I appreciate you all so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This is my first work on the site, so feedback is always appreciated. The next chapters will be longer!


End file.
